I’m a sad case, really: little things please me.
                                                                                     —Len Goodman

I drove 50 miles to buy a birthday present.
Why: not so much bigheartedness
as pleasure in the process—

I see now I was 50 percent to blame.
That’s right. And, because I value fairness,
I’ll apologize for leaving you
alone with my dad that time we sprang him from Bellevue

Weary am I now love
now that I’m weary of love

      On a park bench after dark,
      practically begging
      to be assaulted, I—Wolf,
      you bit my hand off.